The Coat
by TheMaskedTimelord
Summary: SAINW universe. It is never explained why the Leader of the Ninja Turtles wore a long, black trench coat. Here is a short idea I had to explain why. Warning: Contains depression and self-harm. Rated M just in case.


**A/N: This is in the Same As It Never Was universe during the 2003 series. This is a slight AU since it doesn't follow EVERYTHING in the series.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the TMNT universe.**

 **Warnings: Contains Depression as well as Self-Harm**

Being the leader was difficult. I remember, during many stressful situations, my teenage mind couldn't take it; however, I couldn't let them see how much it was effecting me. If they saw what it was doing to me, I would be a horrible older brother and leader.

I wanted to escape the pain. My body craves for release from this burden; I deserved a punishment for being such a weakling. As time passed, the idea of self-harming came to my mind. Unfortunately, I couldn't cut my skin, for my brothers would see the sudden, organized cuts on my green skin and discover my secret. Even if I were to cut myself scarcely, I knew I would soon become addicted and be unable to hold back my blade from my arms.

Luckily, I came up with another solution, one that would be harder for my family to realize. When the pain became too much, when the burden came too heavy for my to carry, or when I became such a disappointment, I would run to my room and shut the door behind me. Then, away from my family's eyes, I would punch myself, sometimes leaving bruises near my head and limbs. If my brothers asked, I would say I hit my head or received the marks during training.

Despite how confident I was in hiding my secrets, one member of my family learned what I did behind closed doors.

Donatello confronted me when I was training in the Dojo. Michelangelo and Raphael were playing games in the main room while Master Splinter decided to talk a peaceful walk through the sewer tunnels. My genius, but younger, brother explained how I have been recently withdrawn and quiet. He told me that he knew about how I was hurting myself and that he wanted to help me.

I remember crying in front of him, feeling frustrated with myself as I crumbled into my brother's arms. The longer i stayed in my brother's hold, though, listening to his reassuring and comforting words, I felt more at peace and more accepting of the tears that ran down my face.

We moved to the Lab, where he told me I was likely to be in Depression's hold. It was Donatello that said he would help me get pass my self-loathing and conquer over the stress. It was my genius brother that promised to keep my secret between us. It was Donnie that offered to hear my fears and challenges in my room after a patrol.

When Donatello disappeared, it all came rushing back. He was my support and strength while dealing with depression; and, he was gone in what seemed like an instant.

I wondered if I bothered him too much. Maybe he got sick of me and could no longer deal with my illness. What if I was being a burden to him when Donatello was trying to help me? Raphael was frustrated, upset, and angry. He covered up his breaking heart by saying he abandoned us and that we didn't need him. Michelangelo was upset but somehow hopeful. My youngest brother continued to tell us how Donatello would return; and, on some nights, I would walk past his room and hear him crying into his pillow from the other side of the door.

Master Splinter took my brother's disappearance hard as well. He would try to cool Raphael's flames of rage and dry Michelangelo's tears while grieving over losing a son. It all made him seem so much older and frail, as of his time was finally starting to catch up with him.

I wanted to help my family through this rough time. Unfortunately, I didn't know how to, because I was a stupid imbecile, who didn't know how to be there for his brothers and father. After all, I was probably the reason why our brother was no longer with us.

The universe was merciless and soon dragged me and my family into a fight with the Shredder, one that severely wounded us. Raphael lost his eye that night. Michelangelo lost his arm that night. I was poisoned that night, causing me to lose my sight the next day. On that night, we lost our father, creating the last, clear image my eyes to see be the image of the Shredder sliding his blade through Master Splinter.

That battle shattered the relationship I once held dear and swore to protect. Raphael hated me, saying it was I was at fault for our Father's passing. I know his heart was aching, but I believed the words he spoke, even when I continued to defend myself. Michelangelo was frustrated with Raphael and I, disapproving our fights and becoming disappointed with us. Even when my immediate younger brother left us, I couldn't stand to see the look my once innocent, cheerful brother gave me. Just like many years before, I began to crack, leaving the Lair before my brother could

see how weak I was.

I spent time outside of the city alone, becoming isolated and alone. Fearing what my brothers would think of me and listening intently to the voices that rested inside my head, I ignore the feeling of desperation in my stomach, begging me to see my family and friends.

April and her team to fight against the Shredder found me. My old friend explained how she was only on a mission, soon returning to the city I ran away from. She asked me to join her, explaining Michelangelo was with her and Raph, from wherever he was staying, was willing to help from time-to-time. I refused to join her in battle but offered my assistance if she needed something done away from New York.

She thanked me before setting a type of clothing into my arms. April explained it was a long, black trench coat. When I asked her what it was for, she told me it was to keep me warm during the cold season and to help me blend in the the shadows in the night.

I quickly found another purpose, though. As isolation continued to spread its cold fingers around me, the desperation to find a way out and to do something right grew stronger. One day, when my fist connected with the back of my head, I realized I was self-harming wrong, something I could easily fix.

At first, I didn't use my Katanas, feeling as if they were a close friend, a part of me. Throughout my life, I have been working with these blades, even when I had nothing else. Finding a Tanto blade from some Foot soldiers I took down, I quickly began slicing my arms. The effects were almost immediate, causing me to feel full of energy and life. Suddenly, I felt like I could run for miles and miles on end. I continued to cut my arms until I decided to call it a night and covered myself in my long coat.

Soon, the cuts weren't enough. It was like I was becoming immune to their effects, not feeling the same energy I was feeling in the past. I needed it; I deserved the pain. Soon, I began to cut myself daily with one of my Katanas. Then, I would cut myself for than once a day.

I knew what I was doing was bad and wrong. I knew, no matter how many times I could cover it up, the cuts were there. I knew, despite being blind, that my green skin was covered in dark red lines that would drop with blood. Even though I could not see anything, I could picture it all. My mind created images of my skin covered in the disgusting marks I have created; my mind showed me images of my friends and family, both dead and alive finding me without my coat and seeing the marks and scars. This only cause me to cut more and deeper, wearing my coat constantly as if it were a second shell.

Then, one day, April called me about an emergency. She has always had a skill to manipulate us into doing what she wants, causing me to find myself heading to New York without even realizing it. I was greeted by Raph, which lead to me being greeted with the urge to scratch open the cuts on my arms or create new ones. Our fight was interrupted, though, by a familiar figure.

I couldn't see his face, but I could smell him. My nostrils picked up the scent of oil and machinery; I could even pick up the musky smell of the sewage watcher we have grown nearby for half of our life. Finding our Donatello was back caused me to feel guilty and shameful, even if it wasn't the Donnie I have known as a child. Yet, as days went by, being surrounded by my brothers, I somehow found myself more calm and at peace. Slowly, I began to laugh and smile more with my brothers as we planned our attack against the Shredder.

As I sat next to them in the large drill April's men have created to help us break into the Shredder's Fortress, I realized with satisfaction that I haven't cut in two days.

"What you smiling about?" I heard Raph say next to me, his voice barely able to be heard over the drill's steady hum.

"Just thinking about the past, before everything fell apart," I lied, the smile not leaving my face. Before I finished speaking, memories of my brothers and I running on rooftops and enjoying each other's company filled my mind. Raph's small huff told me he was starting to think the same thing.

Silence fell over us, but it was a comfortable silence. And we neared Shredder's Lair, I began having hope that we would win, hope I haven't had in a long time. Maybe, after all of this, I can get rid of this coat I have been wearing for so long.

 **A/N: I don't normally write serious/dark, sad stories like this so please let me know what you think or how I can improve. I'm going to be trying to write another story like this in the future. Please leave you a review and thank you so much!**


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